


Feels Like Coming Home

by ScotlandEvander



Series: Various States [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies), War Horse (2011)
Genre: England - Freeform, Gen, Steve Blushes A Lot, Travel, countryside, reconnecting, villages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScotlandEvander/pseuds/ScotlandEvander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in England, Jim goes in search of his boyhood home, Steve meets up with Peggy, and Loki unsuccessfully tries to enjoy a small English village by himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Coming Home

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I don’t own it.**

* * *

_I miss the days when my mind would just rest quiet / My imagination hadn’t turned on me yet / I used to let my words wax poetic_   


_-Sarah Bareilles, “Hercules”_

* * *

It hadn’t taken much to hunt down the location of Peggy Carter, former SHEILD agent. After explaining to Stark what he wished, Loki found himself in possession of her file that SHEILD had on record. 

Her career was quite colorful. 

It had also became her life, if the file was anything to go by. As the Cold War heated up and she rose further in the ranks of SHIELD until she was an agent as cunning and wily as Natasha Romanov. Her enemies often times under estimated her. She, like Romanov, used it her advantage quite successfully. 

Loki did not share this information with Steve, as he felt it was something Peggy herself ought to tell Steve. He did relate that Steve was correct Peggy Carter had retired to England, somewhere out in the country in the middle of nowhere. 

“That should be nice,” Steve quietly said, sketching absently while sitting in the windowsill of the formerly drunk tank pink studio in their apartment. The room was now a wonderful strange shade of dove grey, that in some light looked blue, while in others looked white. It was strange, but that was what Loki liked about it. “I always wanted to visit the English countryside. Jim grew up somewhere outside of Bridgwater, I think. His family had a country home there. Or around about.”

Loki pressed his lips together, but refrained from asking who Steve had gotten Jim to reveal that much about his past. While Loki trusted the man to keep Jess safe, he still wished he knew more about the young man with the magical smile that rendered people mush. There was also the tiny factoid Jess was clearly smitten with Jim while Jim was leery of Jess. That did not sit well with Loki.  

“Ah, well, that works out well for us,” Loki replied, studying a map on his mobile. “Bridgwater is near the village Ms Carter resides.” 

At this point Steve fell out of the windowsill, landing in a rather ungraceful heap on the floor. 

“You’re serious about this? Going to England? To visit Peggy?” 

“Yes, I’m serious. Why would I joke about such a think, Steven?”

Steve looked at a complete loss. 

“James and Jessica plan to travel to England to see Thor set fire to some rain in a few weeks. We ought to travel with them,” Loki finished, pocketing his phone. “I’ll organize a meeting with Ms Carter and your other compatriot who resides in England while we accompany Jessica and James to see Thor set fire to some rain.” 

Loki smirked, turning and exiting the studio before Steve could respond. 

* * *

_Won’t you stop and remember me / At any convenient time / Funny how my memory skips while looking over manuscripts of unpublished rhyme_

_-Simon & Garfunkle, “A Hazy Shade of Winter”_

* * *

Steve had no clue what to do. Loki claimed Peggy excepted him at her home (a modest cottage on the outskirts of a smallish village in southeastern England), but he felt awkward and even more out of place than he usually did just standing on her door-stoop. 

“Are you going to knock or stand out there getting wet?” came a familiar voice, though it was scratchy with age.

Steve knocked, feeling even more foolish than he had before. 

The door opened to reveal an old woman. Though she was nearing ninety years, her eyes remained just as animated as Steve remembered. Those eyes took him in and a disbelieving look appeared on her wizened face. 

“Well, you’ve not aged a day,” she said wryly. “Thought they might have doctored those pictures that surfaced after those aliens invaded Malibu. And why on Earth would you invade Malibu to stage a world invasion? Amateurs.” 

A chuckle left Steve without his permission.

“Well, you might as well come in. You’re still as awkward as I remember,” Peggy commented, shuffling aside to let Steve enter.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he apologized, stepping in after trying to shake the rain off himself before he entered. His hair was damp, but not as soaked as it might have been. He ought to wear a hat like Jim did, but Steve felt he looked ridiculous with anything on his head. Jim could wear a tea cozy on his head and make it look good. Hell, Jim could wear a folded newspaper and look normal.

“Oh, don’t start that,” Peggy chided, taking his overcoat from him. “Call me Peggy. I know I’m old, but no need to treat me like a granny.”

Steve felt his cheeks heat up, but he nodded. 

Peggy pushed him into the sitting room and he sat down in an overstuffed armchair while Peggy took the love seat across from him. There was a tea set on the coffee table before her and she began to go about fixing Steve a cup of tea.  

“So, who is the young man who set up this date?”

Steve sputtered for a moment. 

Peggy gave him a familiar disbelieving look before she smiled.

“Must be important to him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer, would he?” Peggy asked, still smiling that small smile Steve remembered so well. 

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t, uh, take to…not getting what he wants very well at times,” Steve admitted, raking a hand through his damp hair. “He’s, uh, kind of determined when he sets his mind to something. He didn’t harass you did he?”

Steve felt a gush of worry and indignation at the thought of Loki harassing Peggy. 

“No, he did no such thing. He was just, as you put it, determined. Is he here with you?”

“Uh, yes. He’s seeing the village. He didn’t want to intrude,” Steve said, accepting the cup Peggy offered to him. “Thank you.”

“Hmmm,” Peggy hummed, fixing her own cup of tea. “So, what’s his name?”

“Luke,” Steve said slowly, feeling strange calling Loki by his “outside name.” Fury had made it perfectly clear that ANYONE they met OUTSIDE the “know” was to be told Loki was called LUKE. (Fury had been, well, furious when he found out Jess had introduced Loki as Loki to all her salon friends. How he found out, Steve didn’t know, but he knew and gave the entire group (Jess and Jim via the computer) orders NOT to LET anyone know Loki was called Loki.)

(Loki had rolled his eyes so much Steve was amazed they stayed in his head.) 

Peggy studied Steve for a long, drawn out moment. “What’s his real name?”

Steve took a sip of the too hot liquid, scrambling for something to say. 

“You’ve never been good at fibbing, Steven Grant Rogers,” Peggy chided, picking up her tea cup primly. “Don’t try to start now. What’s his real name?”

“Loki,” Steve sighed, knowing she was right. Peggy might not have known him for very long, but she’d known him long enough to know he failed at not being truthful. Hell, he was truthful to a fault. (Why Fury thought he could go around calling Loki _Luke_ was beyond Steve.) 

Peggy’s grey eyebrow rose a little. “As in the same man who tried to take over the world by invading Malibu?”

“Kinda?” Steve asked, his voice raising embarrassingly at the end. 

Peggy snorted through her noise and shook her head, her rigidly set white curls not moving. “He didn’t strike me as a megalomanic on the phone, but it’s not a common name, now is it? He’s better at lying than you are, Steve.” 

Steve shifted, realizing he’d just outed Loki (who clearly could convince people his name was Luke). “Yeah, I know. God of Lies and all that.”

“God of Lies?” Peggy echoed, looking a little shocked. “I thought those tales weren’t true.”

“Well, they aren’t God, but they…well, they are different than us. They live almost forever. So, I guess when they all first ventured to Earth, they’d be seen as gods. I mean, Loki had magic.”

“Had magic?” Peggy asked. Steve opened his mouth to explain, but Peggy held a hand up. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. I might be a retired agent, but I still have level nine clearance.”

“Huh?”

Peggy smirked. “Why don’t you fill me in? Director Fury just hates it when I know things.”

Steve couldn’t help but match her smirk. 

* * *

_I have search for your springs / But like people, they stagnate with time / Like water, like air / To you, England, I cling_

_-PJ Harvey, “England”_

* * *

“So, not exactly what you remember, huh?”

“No. I can’t say it is,” Jim admitted. “Last I was here, there was a house.”

“Mansion,” Jess corrected. “And per the historical pamphlet I’ve got here in my hand, it burned to the ground a few years after you were born.” 

“I was born in 1887. I think 1894 is more than a few,” Jim quietly commented, quite glad it was a rather rainy, chilly afternoon and the park was mostly void of tourists to enjoy nature walks and the reclaimed gardens Fyne Court boasted. 

“Did it look like this?” Jess asked, forking over the pamphlet she’d gotten somewhere. 

Jim took the pamphlet and studied it under the safety of his brolly. He took in the building, looking rather large and regal in the photo, yet he knew the country manor he grew up in was much larger and grander (and older) than the home that stood here in this reality. 

“No. It was much more…grand,” Jim allowed. “It was much more...”

 Jim couldn’t think of a world, but didn’t need to as Jess extended her cell phone at him. He stared at the image on the screen and gasped.

“That’s it. That’s Fyne Court.”

“Nope. In this reality it’s called Montacute House and it’s somewhere south of here,” Jess replied, taking the phone back and flicking the screen with her finger. “Didn’t realize you were slumming it so much with me.”

Jim frowned. “I didn’t think it relevant to bring up where I was brought up.”

“Yeah, well, I seem to attract people of higher means than myself like flies,” Jess grumbled, pocketing her phone. “Well, wanna walk around? Land might be the same.”

Jim nodded.

It was surreal walking around the area, yet he felt more at home than he did elsewhere. There was something within the land that drew him to this spot and made him feel comfortable for the first time since he’d awoken in Alaska. 

“Kind of feels like a fairytale land,” Jess quietly commented. 

Jim hummed his agreement. 

“Have you found the doubles of your family here?” Jess quietly asked as they walked one of the trails aimlessly. 

“No. No one I knew existed,” Jim admitted. “Not Jamie, no members of my immediate family…my sister-in-law existed, though she married a count instead of an earl.”

“Oh, who was your sister-in-law?” 

“Gladys Vanderbilt,” Jim replied. “In this reality she married a Hungarian count I believe. She’s literally the only person I knew personally who existed here.”

“You knew a real Vanderbilt?”

Jim glanced over at Jess, who looked almost eager for more information. 

“Yes. My eldest brother married her for her money,” Jim confessed, feeling rather uncomfortable admitting such information. He knew it was common knowledge these days that the British peerage (and some other European peerage) married American heiresses strictly to access their dowries. “No one in my family knew how to manage money, like many of our class.”

“So, likely, after the war, your family might have lost this place,” Jess offered. “Like so many other families did.”

Jim nodded. 

“It seems like Gladys and Consuelo switched places in your timeline,” Jess commented. 

“The Duchess of Marlborough?”

“Ah, maybe not so much,” Jess said. “I went through a Vanderbilt obsession when I was a teenager. I watched this show called _American Castles_ and the Vanderbilts were featured often. They liked big houses they never used.”

Jim snorted softly. “Yes, well, we English also had big homes we hardly used. Besides Fyne Court, we also had a home in London for the season.”

“Oh yes,” Jess said, her voice changing to imitate (badly) Jim’s accent, “the season! Must be in London for the season.”

Jim rolled his eye at her antics, but did not respond. 

“I preferred our summers here,” Jim commented. “Though, it was much different.”

“Yeah. I doubt your family would let the grounds be over taken by nature.”

“No.”

“So, what did Coulson want?”

Jim sighed, knowing it’d be impossible not to discuss the proposition Coulson had proposed before he’d gone back to wherever he came from. (Jim honestly did not know where Coulson called home.)

“He offered you a job, didn’t he?”

“Correct.”

“What the hell can you do for SHEILD?” Jess asked. “No offense, but you’re an outdated solider.”

Jim made a face and said, “I’m pretty.”

“Everyone is pretty!” Jess wailed, a little louder than need be. “And, why would he give you a job based on your face? I mean…wait…do they need…”

“No!” Jim shouted, ears eating up at where he knew Jess’s mind had gone. “He asked me to be the spokesperson.”

“I thought SHILED was supposed to be top secret?”

“I guess since the Malibu invasion, they’ve come into the light,” Jim admitted. “I’m not sure of all the details as of yet, but I do not think I can turn it down.”

“Then don’t. I know you don’t like cleaning my house. And now that I know you had no clue how to clean, well…I’m kind of impressed,” Jess admitted. 

“I know how to clean,” Jim grudgingly said. “I was in the Army.” 

“I know. You make a mean bed,” Jess giggled. “Sometimes I can’t even get into it.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Jess continued to giggle. 

* * *

_Not innocent I guess I let that show / I wear those sins everybody knows_   


_-Carolina Liar, “Never Let You Down”_

* * *

The village Peggy Carter chose to reside in was in fact quite small and Loki grew bored within fifteen minutes of leaving Steve at her door. Luckily there was a pub and he could get out of the rain. With a pint of something bitter and weak, Loki stared out the rain spattered window allowing the quiet noises of the pub to wash over him. 

Any jealousy he’d originally felt when he’d discovered those sketches of Peggy Carter had vanished and no matter how much the Mad One wanted to be violently jealous, Loki couldn’t muster up the emotion to the point it overwhelmed him. His therapist said it was normal to feel a little jealousy over an ex-lover (her words, not his), so he didn’t feel any ill ease leaving Steve to face Peggy Carter on his own. He felt more worry at allowing Jim and Jess to venture off in a car on the wet, narrow roads of England than he did leaving Steve on Peggy’s porch. (Mostly because Jim only recently learned to drive, and he did so in Alaska. They drove on the opposite side of the road here. Jim hadn’t made Loki feel any better when he gotten into the car and remarked, “Oh, everything’s opposite.”) 

Just as he began to really worry they’ve driven off the road and died, his phone chimed. Looking at it where he’d set it on the table, he read: _Jim’s former home is actually a castle that’s not located here, but somewhere else._

A moment later a picture of very green nature filled his screen. 

_That’s what his old home looks like now. Or the land. Nature took it back! YAY!_

Loki shook his head at Jess’s antics. 

Loki had been a bit surprised to find out Jim came from the mortal equivalent to members of Asgardian royal court. Jim did not hold himself as anyone familiar with court would. While he was graceful, he lacked the regal air Loki knew members of that class here on Midgard carried. (Though, the woman the Prince of Wales married was in fact a commoner, so maybe Loki had no clue what he was talking about. The woman whose name escaped Loki at the moment moved with the same poise and grace as the others, she just seemed to smile a lot more.)

(Kind of like Jim.)  

“Hey.”

Loki startled, almost knocking over his glass at the sound of Steve’s voice.

“Uh, she wanted to meet you,” Steve said, motioning to the short, old woman on his arm wearing a plastic cover over her white hair and a tasteful rain jacket. She gave Steve a look that felt familiar. “Uh, Lo—Luke, this is Peggy Cater. Peggy, this is, er, Luke.” 

She shook her head at Steve, wrestled her arm free from his, and extended her hand towards Loki. 

“I know who you really are,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Her voice sounded just as it had over the phone. 

Loki rose from his seat and took her hand. It was cold and felt fragile in his hand, but he could feel her firm grip as she shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to have a face to put with the voice.” 

Peggy scoffed, letting go of Loki’s hand in order to remove her headgear. She primly folded it up, placed it in her pocket before she began to remove her coat. Steve hastened to take it from her and pull her chair out. She gave him a rather found look as she took a seat. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Loki offered, still standing. 

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Peggy said. “I’m not picky. Sit down, Rogers.”

Steve sat down. Loki smirked, shaking his head as he headed for the bar to get two more pints of whatever the barkeep felt like giving him. 

Upon sitting down with the two fresh pints, Loki instantly knew the barkeep knew what Peggy Carter liked as whatever was in his glass was different than what he’d had before. He looked up to find amused brown eyes gazing at him from across the table, that familiar spark of life glowing brightly. 

“I do not know much about…English ale,” Loki decided. 

“Well, when you drink we me, you get the good stuff,” Peggy said. 

Loki extended his head, then pushed the glass at Steve. 

“I can’t—” 

“Get drunk,” Peggy and Loki said together. 

“We know,” Peggy assured. “You can savor the taste, though, can you not?”

Steve turned a light shade of pink, smiled, and took the glass. He took a drink, set the glass down, and made the most adorable fast of distaste Loki had ever seen. It was hard to contain the smile that wanted to escape. 

“Urgh. How can you drink that stuff for fun?” Steve asked. “I think beer’s gotten worse in the past seventy years.” 

“It’s an acquired taste, is it not?” Peggy cheekily asked. “And it’s gotten much better.” 

Steve shook his head. 

“So, I dragged the story of how you two met out of Steve,” Peggy began, turning her full attention to Loki. “It was rather difficult, as you likely understand, between the blushing and sputtering.”

Steve blushed and stared at the table. 

“You do not have issue?” Loki asked, honestly curious. With the issues Steve had had at the start, Loki was interested to know how someone else from his era would take their relationship. 

Peggy chuckled. “No. I knew there was something about him that was a bit…off. No one could be that adorable, even if he was shorter than me when we first met, and be that completely innocent. When he told me he’d never met anyone to dance with…I couldn’t believe it.”

“No dame wanted me or would look at me,” Steve muttered. 

Peggy gazed at Steve fondly for a moment before turning her attention back to Loki. “I bet they realized he wasn’t all that interested.” 

Steve went a little redder. 

“You’re almost as good at that as Agent Barton,” Loki remarked, gazing fondly at tomato faced Steve. 

“Ah, that’s only because I’ve had years to work on my material,” Peggy joked, smiling. The smile fell away as she said, “Though, it wasn’t until much later I finally admitted a few things to myself where Steve was concerned.”

“Oh?” Steve asked, glancing up from the tabletop where he’d been burning holes with his bright blue eyes. 

Peggy hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip of her pint before speaking again. “You failed to realize how you appeared to others and were completely unprepared for what would happen to you once you went all heroic on us.” 

Steve frowned. “Is that why you were mad at me?”

“I was mad, yes, but not why you think I was mad at you.” 

Steve looked greatly confused. 

“Does this have to do with fondue?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And that, Steve, is why you’re better off now than then,” Peggy said, patting his arm. 

“You realized then he was ill equipped for attention?” Loki inquired, about as lost as Steve. 

“Yes, but I also realized he was a bumbling fool,” Peggy confessed. “I wished quite hard I was wrong, but even as he was going down and trying to be brave, and made a date he knew he’d fail to attend, I had a gut feeling even if he didn’t die, we’d not work.”

Steve frowned. 

“I kissed him,” Peggy said, looking at Loki and ignoring Steve completely. “And nothing. He looked totally shell shocked, just as he did after that other woman he placed one on him.” Peggy thoughtfully looked into her pint for a moment before pinning Loki with those playful brown eyes once more. “He didn’t do that to you did he?” 

Loki tapped his finger on his chin, gazing over at Steve, who was channeling a cherry. 

“No, I’d not say shell shocked,” Loki admitted. He almost told Peggy how out of sorts Steve had looked after Loki had kissed him, but chose to keep that moment between himself and Steve. It was, in fact, a visual Loki would treasure for the rest of his days. 

“Good,” Peggy said, taking a healthy swing from her pint. “So, alien in New York living with a man from the 1940s. How does that work?”

“Flawlessly when I keep Steven away from the microwave.”

“It’ll kill you,” Steve muttered. “It uses radiation.”

Peggy and Loki both eyeballed Steve before they burst out laughing. 

“Microwaves,” Steve grumbled, steeling Loki’s pint and taking another swing.

This lead to another adorable grossed out face and more laughter from both Peggy and Loki. 

* * *

_Maybe the sun will shine today / The clouds will blow away / Maybe I won’t feel so afraid / I will try to understand_

_-Wilco, “Either Way”_

* * *

“Take the job.”

“I won’t be able to remain in Anchorage if I do, likely.”

“So? It’s not like you particularly like it,” Jess said, as they drove along the road back towards Bridgwater. 

“I enjoy Anchorage,” Jim insisted. 

Jess scoffed. “You tell yourself that, Lord Bridgwater.”

“Earl.”

“Earl Bridgwater, sorry. Jimmy, dude, you are listless. You’re almost like Loki when he was a freaky cat, except I don’t think you know how not to be, well, positive. You’re not depressed. Loki was depressed.”

“Loki was a cat?”

“Yeah, when I first met him, he was a cat. I took him home, thought I’d hit the jackpot of pets, only to come home to find Loki sitting at my computer looking up alternative universe and time travel or something one day,” Jess complained. “Anyways, you need something to do. You don’t know how to find a job, I don’t know how to find you a job not in the hair cutting industry, and you literally have no real world experience that would help you out getting a job anyways. So, in my world, you take Coulson up on his offer. SHIELD pays you, you can live where you want, and bam. You stop feeling useless and you stop lowering yourself to clean my house because you feel indebted to me for housing you.”

“And feeding me.”

“I don’t feed you, dude. I can’t cook,” Jess laughed. “So, you taking the job?”

Jim sighed, gazing out the front windshield as the English countryside rolled by. Cars in England drove on the opposite side of the road than they did in America, which was jarring to get used to as everything was on the wrong side than Jim was used to (yes, he’d learned to drive, as Jess did not drive for some reason). 

“Oh, why not.”

* * *

_I’ve lost my grip on where I started from / I wish I’d thought ahead and left a few crumbs / I’m on the hunt for who I’ve not yet become_

_-Sara Bareilles, “Hercules”_


End file.
